Page 75 of Dangerous Devotion

After the sommelier poured her a fresh glass, she swirled the deep red liquid for a moment, watching how the candlelight glinted on the glass and highlighted the rich color of the grapes it was made with.

She didn’t have to taste it to know that this was onehellof a bottle. One that came with an obscene price tag.

She took a sip and savored the full body of the wine on her palate. Then she looked directly at Simpson’s table. The man raised his glass to her in toast, a smirk playing around the corners of his mouth.

The urge to slam her glass down on the table blazed through her along with a thick warmth of the alcohol working into her system. This night was supposed to be about her and AJ. Just dinner. Just romance.

And it had turned into a mission.

AJ didn’t notice her battle to keep her expression off her face. The sommelier poured him a glass as well, which he accepted, voicing his appreciation.

With a small dip of his head in acceptance, the sommelier left the bottle for them and moved away.

When he was out of earshot, AJ set the glass on the table. “That’s gotta be a six-hundred-dollar bottle.”

“Try two grand.”

“I didn’t realize you know wine.”

“I’m no expert, but my uncles dabble, and have cellars in their homes. This comes with a massive price tag.”

“And it’s not on the house.” Without turning his head, he cut his eyes toward Simpson.

“Yup,” she breathed, bringing the glass to her nose again. She didn’t care if the wine was gold—it felt like blood money. The fact that Simpson could drop that kind of cash on a gift like this told her there wasa lotmore they weren’t seeing.

Yet.

That the major general had also inserted himself into their evening didn’t sit right with May. And if she knew AJ’s habits by now, the way he drummed his fingers on the table in a quiet staccato screamed that he was on edge too.

Simpson didn’t look their way again, but the damage was done. Any romantic looks or the banter lovers shared vanished. He pretended to sip, but she saw him lower the glass without taking a swallow. He didn’t just want to remain clear-headed—heneededto.

She picked up her fork again and picked through her pasta dish, selecting a vegetable here, some herbed shrimp there, but all the food was tasteless in her mouth.

If she was suspicious of Simpson and his big bank account before, now every alarm blared in her mind, pealing louder and louder as the night wound down.

“Do you think he’s buying art? Or selling it?” she asked AJ without looking up from her plate.

Ever the soldier, AJ had worked his way through his main dish and was now focused on the bread basket. Every now and then, he darted a look over at Simpson, but the man had returned to enjoying his good food, wine and his company as if he hadn’t just dropped what was, for most people, a half a month’s wages on a gift.

AJ paused with a piece of crusty, homemade bread in hand. “Why he’s wining and dining his art dealer is the bigger question in my mind.”

She nodded.

In an exaggerated show, May reached for the bottle. Before she could wrap her fingers around it, AJ’s fingers brushed hers. Holding her stare, he tipped the bottle, pretending to pour more into her already untouched glass.

She jumped.

“Relax, darlin’.”

She sucked in a deep breath through her nose, expanding her chest until her ribs complained. The Navy SEALs’ wayof lowering their heart rate into a more normal rhythm and lessening panic in tough situations.

She was no SEAL, but she could do this.

Curling her fingers around the stem of the glass, she looked into her partner’s eyes. Though their evening had been tainted by Simpson’s intrusion, she was still happy to be here with AJ.

“If I have to pretend to drink a fantastic bottle of wine while staking out the man who gifted it to us, I’m glad I get to do it with you.” She brought the glass to her lips.

He gave her a smile filled with genuine affection. “I feel the same, May.”

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